


You're Making Me Sick, Love

by johnwaltzson



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drug Use, Hallucinations, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1422217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnwaltzson/pseuds/johnwaltzson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson had always been there to stop Sherlock from overdosing. But now, John has started his new life with Mary. Sherlock has begun to fall back into his old ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Making Me Sick, Love

Sherlock sat on the bathroom floor, his hands shaking. He couldn't do this, he couldn't, he…

The snap of the rubber tourniquet around his arm echoed in his head, sharp and percussive. He tapped the veins in the crook of his arm, trying to make them visible. His eyes darted to his phone, hoping that it would ring. Hoping for John's voice.

Nothing.

He brought the lighter up to the spoon he held in his hand, watching the fine powder dissolve into the water the it held and get soaked up by the tiny cotton sponge he placed in it. He felt sweat bead on his brow as he dipped the tip of the needle into the cloudy, brownish liquid, pulling the plunger up and watching as the warm substance filled the barrel of the syringe. He hadn't done any calculations on this dose as he had in his previous years using, and he did not intend to. His head felt as if it were on fire and his hands were shaking, shaking, shaking. He was afraid. He brought the needle up to his now pronounced veins, biting the end of the rubber strap and tightening it further. He inched the needle closer, finally pressing it through the layers of his skin and watching his blood rush up and collide with the heroin, swirling and spinning, Slowly, he pushed the plunger down, watching it intently. As soon as the barrel of the syringe was empty, he let out the shuddering breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and undid the rubber strap keeping the drug localized. He felt it like a crashing wave, taking him under with its violent movements. John...

He wanted John.

He pushed himself up into a haphazard sitting position, reaching for his phone and shoving the tan box he had kept hidden under the tiles in the floor aside. His head swam and his vision blurred, his high making a slow ascent towards its apex as he moved disjointedly across the bathroom floor. As he picked up his phone, he realized that his arms were tingling. His arms were burning. His veins were rippling, his skin moving unnaturally. Shit. Unlocking the phone and scrolling to John's contact information, he picked up the blade he had set next to him. As the phone was ringing, Sherlock set it to speaker. He needed to find out what crawled through his veins. He started talking despite the fact that John had not yet picked up.

"I think there are- Ah, fuck," He swore, feeling the dulled pinch of the blade entering his skin, "Bugs under my skin. They're like rubies, they're crawling under my- they're- Shit." He cut deeper, watching the oddly opalescent red fluid running over his wrist and onto the bathroom floor. "There are so many-"

_"Please leave a message for-"_

Sherlock reached over, hitting the "end call" button.

He didn't stop in his efforts to free the threatening insects from his veins, hoping in vein that the damage he was causing to himself was less so than the insects.

His phone rang.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever time posting and I don't write all too often, so my apologies if it's not good! Someone recommended that I post this here, so I decided I'd give it a try. Feedback would be appreciated! ♥


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